


Jon and Arya Drabbles Collection

by LadyBee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cousin Incest, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-05-15 12:46:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5785831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBee/pseuds/LadyBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've been writing these drabbles for a while and I had only posted it on my tumblr. I decided to publish them here too and I hope you will like them. There are several drabbles set in different universes and situations. You should read every one of them as an independent story to avoid confusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Give Happiness a Shot

**Author's Note:**

> This one was a prompt offered by @lindsaymaknae on my tumblr. The idea is basically "I'm getting married in 8 hours so would you please stop this car?!?" and "what happened with you marrying me when I were old enough?".  
> I suggest you to read it while listening to Look At You, by The Screaming Trees (fucking awesome song).

There was some old classic rock song playing on the radio while she drove his car through the silent streets. From all of the bad ideas he could have had, asking Arya to drive him home took the prize.

_Her ghost hides_  
_In my mind_  
_In the night_  
_In a way she's haunting me_  
_I'm wanting her still_  
_Thru rose colored skies_  
_Or blue, blue moonlight_  
_There's miracles on high_  
_She's walking by..._

What else a man is supposed to do at his last night as a single man if not indulge all the thoughts about what might have been of his life if he had made a different decision? Alcohol was a terrible adviser at this point, but he felt as if he needed that last moment alone with her, just to look at Arya’s face and try to find the certainty he would need to say “I do” to Ygritte.

Arya had never been good at telling him what to do. She would call him stupid instead and roll her eyes if he ever made the question. They were cousins after all. It would have been just wrong and he lacked the courage to risk his family’s balance just because…Just because Arya had always been that forbidden fruit tempting him.

They had flirted with the possibility, teased each other, probably even fantasized, but never really crossed any line of decency. You are playing with fire now. His mind kept saying as he looked at her profile half illuminated by the city lights.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” She finally asked. That was a painful question when you are just too tempted to throw everything out of the window and scream to anyone that might care about it that he wasn’t ready. Scream that he was there, sitting inside his car, drunk as fuck, and hopping for a girl he had always loved to say the words. There was nothing he would ever deny Arya and she knew it, still she would never ask the forbidden question unless she was in the mood to set the world on fire.

A few years ago, when she was just a college girl, having her fair share of bad ideas and self destructive behavior she might have done it. How he hated the fact that she overgrew her reckless attitude. He could use a rebel or a hero that night.

_When I look at you I've got a 2nd chance_  
_Really need to have you now_  
_One by one they fall it always breaks me down..._

 

“Is anyone ever ready for this kind of commitment?” He gave her another question instead of an answer.

“That is your dream. You are the one that had always dreamed about a perfect wedding, loving wife, kids, white fence and a Golden Retriever. You are getting the whole dream tomorrow.” She answered with an acid tone.

“It’s complicated.” He answered.

“Do you want me to kidnap you? The tank is full. If you are going to ask me to do something crazy now is the time.” She said bluntly. Jon couldn’t help laughing at it. How he wished it to be a possibility. How he wanted to runaway with her. To marry her as soon as they got to a place like Vegas or Atlantic City in some lame chapel.

“Please do it.” He answered lazily and still too drunk to even consider what she was offering as possibility.

He might have dozed off while she was driving. When he opened his eyes again, they were already on the highway. Jon nearly jumped once he realized that she wasn’t joking when she talked about kidnapping him. Well…It wasn’t a kidnap if it was consensual.

“What the fuck are you doing?! Where are you taking me?!” He asked all of sudden, trying to find out the direction she had taken while he was sleeping. “Arya, I’m getting married in eight hours! Would you please stop the car?!”

She remained silent for a while and he noticed that they were approaching a very suspicious motel in the middle of nowhere. The red light indicating the parking lot was as decadent as the song on the radio.

“You said I could kidnap you.” She answered as matter of fact while she parked the car. “Even if you haven’t, I would have done it anyway.”

“Why would you do something like this?! Are you mad?!”

“No, but you are. Have you seen your face in the mirror lately? You don’t look like someone happy about your life’s choices right now. Why did you propose her anyway?”

“It was the right thing to do. The mature thing to do.” He answered angrily. “Why are we discussing this anyway?”

“What you should be asking is why you called me from all people to take you out of your fucking bachelor’s party and drive you home? Let’s face it, Jon. You don’t want to marry her, but you are just to fucking stubborn and honorable to admit it.”

“What would have me do now? I’ve made Ygritte a promise! I can’t just vanish like this and abandon her one her wedding day, Arya! This is just cruelty!”

“Cruelty?! Do you know what cruelty is? To know exactly what who you want, to know she wants you back, but never really having the courage to do something about it! You are a coward, Jon. I’m tired of waiting for you to make up your mind when your decision affects my life too. You called me and I know a desperate man when I see one.”

“We are cousins, Arya. No matter how much you might be right, that won’t change! It’s just wrong!”

“The wrong thing here is to lie to the woman you proposed to. The wrong thing is to lie to yourself and try to carry on with a plan that is doomed since its genesis. If you decide to go back, I’ll take you home. I’ll go to your wedding and watch you make the biggest mistake in your whole life and even pretend to be happy about it, but you will never be able to say that you didn’t have the chance or that I didn’t do everything in my power to have you.”

“Why do you always have to be the brave one?”

“Someone must.” She said bluntly. “Besides…You had already promised me that you would marry me when I was old enough.” She gave him a sad smile and something inside him cracked.

“We were just kids.” He answered in a bittersweet tone.

“We were already in love anyway. I’m not afraid of saying it, Jon. I’m only afraid of losing you for good.”

That was it. He held her face carefully between his hands, bringing her closer and flirting with the possibility of a kiss.

“What do we do?” He sighed.

“For now we could just get ourselves a room. Tomorrow we can runaway to Vegas.” She smiled lightly. “Or we can go back so you can cancel the wedding. There’s a chance of you not surviving it, but that’s up to you.”

“Getting a room seems like a good idea.” He kissed her forehead. “Taking you to Vegas seems to be even better. We could get a priest dressed like Elvis.”

“You are really determinate to get married tomorrow, aren’t you?” She teased him.

“Yes, I am. Only this time with the right girl.”


	2. Pancakes and Epiphanies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Arya decided to cook breakfast and Jon has no other option but to eat it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt, this one was sent by an anonymous follower on my tumblr.  
> I suggest to read it while listening to Friday I'm In Love, by The Cure.

He should stop crashing at the couch like that, especially when the said couch wasn’t even his. One day or another, Cat Stark would have him flayed for being such a lazy bastard, but at least she wasn’t in town to see him there…Again.

This time he would definitely blame Robb for taking him out and Arya for challenging him at beer pong. The girl had quite the liver and Jon should know best than to do that. Arya never played by the rules, especially when challenged. There was nothing more stupid than to defy his young cousin and history proves that Arya Stark was a force of nature in her own right.

That kind of thing was getting old and ridiculously frequent since he broke up with Ygritte six months ago. Robb had been there for him, like the friend he was, but Arya had been the one to fill his head with all the stupid ideas that he had nurtured during his lamentations. He was feeling like that Ted guy from How I Met Your Mother and Arya was a hell of a Barney. At least there was no pineapple, or licking the Liberty Bell involved in the process. Everything else was fair game.

He went straight to the kitchen, hopping that there would be a few leftovers in the fridge, or maybe a cold slice of pizza waiting to be devoured. Gods! He was hungry.

To his surprise Arya was already there, wearing a huge old t-shirt that barely covered her tights and butt. The place was a mess, with a bow full of sticky dough and Arya all covered in flour while she cracked some eggs into a pan. Arya cooking…That was probably the sign that the apocalypse was close.

“Good morning.” She said as he took a place at the table. “Robb had to solve some problem at the office, but should be back soon.”

“What are you doing?” He asked after a yawn.

“Breakfast. I was hungry, thought you might be hungry too.” She answered before putting a plate full of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him. “I’ll finish the pancakes now.”

He looked at his plate content carefully. The bacon, or at least what Jon presumed to be bacon, looked like coal. The eggs seemed to be safe enough, but again that was Arya's cooking. She had a natural talent to turn anything she touched into some kind of weapon. In that case poison was a serious possibility.

Jon looked at her again, while summoning the courage to taste the food. He would have to eat it, not only because he was really hungry, but also because she had made it for him. Arya wasn’t exactly the most carrying person in the universe, but if she felt like cooking for him than it had a special meaning.

He couldn’t help smiling when Arya started to sing Friday I’m In Love while flipping pancakes with the same skill of sailor trying to dance ballet. Eventually she would raise one of her arms and the t-shirt would go up, revealing a bit too much of her body.

“I don’t care if Monday’s blue, Tuesday’s grey and Wednesday’s too. Thursday, I don’t care about you. It’s Friday and I’m in love.” She sang while swaying her body gently. That song had been playing at the pub last night just because it was Friday.

That must have stick to her head. Arya rarely sang, especially when Sansa was around. Sansa had been a choir girl and incredibly talented at it, while Arya was just a shower performer. He couldn’t help finding her little dance and singing charming. It had been ages since he last woke up with someone making him breakfast and being happy about it and he definitely never woke up with someone singing like that, as if there was nothing in the world able to spoil her good mood.

Jon finally tasted the eggs. There was no salt or pepper and he definitely could feel something crunchy in it, probably some pieces of egg shells. She was still humming the song and dancing all around the kitchen, making Jon muffle a laugh while trying to eat the eggs.

He liked the way she grabbed a spoon and pretended it to be a microphone. Then she turned to face him while performing, making dramatic faces and making Jon laugh out loud. Obviously the pancakes got a little burned in the process, but that had to be the best morning he has had in centuries.

She put another plate full of pancakes in front of him and poured half a bottle of maple syrup on top of it. He hopped it would taste better than the eggs and the bacon.

“You really don’t have to eat it, you know.” She said while looking at his face. It was probably very obvious that the food was awful, but he would eat every single bit of it just to make her happy.

“No…It’s delicious and I’m hungry.” He told her. At least half of it wasn’t a lie. That made her give him the prettiest smile he had ever seen.

“I know it’s disgusting.” She raised from her sit just give him a kiss on the cheek. “But I love you for this. If you get food poisoning, just send me the bill.”

Now it was his turn to get that song stuck in his mind as he observed Arya trying to clean up the mess. _Dressed up to the eyes. It’s a wonderful surprise to see your shoes and your spirits rise, throwing out your frown and just smiling at the sound and as sleek as a shriek, spinning round and round. Always take a big bite. It’s such a gorgeous sight to see you eat in the middle of the night. You can never get enough, enough of this stuff. It’s Friday…_

“I’m in love.” It came out of his lips while he was still with his mouth full.

The problem wasn’t exactly the lyric, or the song, or the food. He chocked at a piece of pancake for no other reason but the fact that after all the blue Mondays, grey Tuesdays and Wednesdays with Ygritte, that day felt like Friday without him noticing that he was in love again.

Without kisses, sex or any kind of commitment. Without questions, dramatic love gestures, or anything like that. He was in love with the girl in old dirty t-shirt and they were singing together over a plate of terrible food.

It wasn’t Friday, but he was in love anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are really appreciated XD


	3. Confessionary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompt.  
> In which Arya is the jealous one.  
> I suggest to read it while listening to Suck It And See or Why You Only Call Me When You're High, by Arctic Monkeys.

She looked him whispering something close to the red head girl’s ear. She giggled and teased him a bit, while Arya stood across the bar, holding to her glass like as if it had the answered to her dilemma somehow. She drank it all in a single gulp and asked a refill. Edric looked at her once more, as if reading what was in her mind.

“Whatever it is that you want to fix, another shot is not the answer.” He said while pouring her some more bourbon.

“And you’ve become my psychiatrist since…?” She replied bitterly.

“What is wrong with you guys?!” He replied while rolling his purple eyes. “Arya, c’mon! It’s getting old! Both of you hanging out together like this and whenever one of you gets a date for the night the other will stay at the bar the whole night with the same sour face and drinking all of the stock.”

“Still, I don’t see how this is your fucking problem, Dayne.” She said before drinking her shot again.

“Let’s face it. You and Jon have a hell of a problem when it comes to dealing with your feelings. I’ve seen you together. All the fights and pointless arguments, the hugs and the walks while holding hands…You two have all the problems of a couple, you just don’t get to enjoy the fun of it.”

“Your point being?” Arya asked while trying to keep a sober face.

“You should get there, kick off the red head and kiss the guy for once. It worked with Gendry, anyway.”

“Hahah! You just forgot one tiny little thing. We are cousins! Do you know when any of us will forget about that? About all the Christmas Parties, birthdays, embarrassing situations? Like never!”

“Better cousins than siblings. It’s not illegal, you know? Besides, what other options do you have?”

“Tequila works just fine for me.”

“Never took you for a coward, Stark.”

“It’s not cowardice. It’s survival.” She answered before drinking her shot. If only she knew how to stop that funny feeling in her stomach and the physical ache that would come around whenever she saw Jon with another girl…If only she knew how to deal with it.

“He likes you.” Edric insisted one more time, looking at her as if she was the dumbest person alive.

“He know where to find me if he ever decides to do something about his feelings. For now I just want to drink.”

“I won’t serve you anymore shots. In fact, if you are going to stay here drowning in self-pity and bourbon, I’ll call you a taxi to take you home.”

“You won’t get any tips from me if you do that.” She pointed her finger to his nose.

“I can live without it.” He picked up his phone and asked for a taxi.

A few minutes after that Edric dragged her out of the pub an put her inside the car, half drunk and half asleep. He went back to the bar and it didn’t take long for Jon to come around. He knew the question before Snow could ever spit it out.

“Is she ok?”

“She will be fine. A brutal hang over tomorrow, but nothing that she hasn’t gone through before.” Dayne answered.

“What was the matter this time? It’s getting frequent.” Jon said with such concern that made it quite clear that Arya wasn’t the only one suffering from a serious case of love dementia.

“You know my rules. A bar is like a confessionary and I am the priest. I can’t tell you, Jon.”

“Fuck the rules. I’m worried about her.” Jon insisted.

“Then ask her what is going on. Or maybe you should go to an ophthalmologist. Whatever helps.” Dayne finally said. “May I help with anything else? We are closing in a few minutes.”

“Just my bill.” Jon answered quickly while looking at the door, as if hopping that Arya would come back.

He paid for his bill and took the red head girl home, while Ned Dayne stood behind to do the cleaning. Once everything was in order, Ned decided that after that night he needed a drink too.

He poured himself a shot of whiskey and swallowed it in a single gulp. If Arya and her cousin kept coming to the pub just to perform another scene of their dysfunctional love affair, he would have to quit or…Maybe start to follow his own advises.

One day, when she wasn’t too occupied dreaming about her cousin, Ned would try to tell Arya Stark that he was in love with her.


	4. Astronomy Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter Universe. - Arya is the new chaser at Gryffindor's quidish team she is up to some celebration with Jon. BEST PROMPT EVER SUGGESTED! ;D  
> M for Malfoy, Marauders and other reasons.

To say that it was raining was an understatement. The sky was falling above their heads when she came across the quidditch field with her red vest all soaked and broom in hand. Robb had been against it, but in the end of the day no one could deny that Arya was the best choice for the chaser position.

The girl was like the new Ginny Weasley before her marriage with Harry Potter. Once she entered the field she simply commanded as Jon looked at her every now and then while trying to catch the golden snitch. Arya was like a red lightening in the storm as she tried to escape a bludger that Grenn had thrown in her direction.

Her first score had been so amazing that Jon nearly felt from his broom when he was too distracted looking at her that a bludger nearly hit his face. No matter how much Robb complained about it, Arya was the obvious choice and they should count themselves lucky for having her.

What could he say? He was stunned by her unknown talent. There he thought that the only thing Arya knew was how to imitate Professor Trelawney and throw some really good hexes. She was a pretty good opponent at the Duelling Club too, but again…He wasn’t prepared for that, just like he wasn’t prepared to hear Robb saying that she was dating Edric Fucking Dayne.

Not that Arya wasn’t free to date whomever she chose, but…C’mon! Dayne?! She could do a lot better than that. He took her to the House of Screams as a date! Who the hell picks the most hunted place on Great Britain to take a girl on a date?! OK, it was Arya and she liked that kind of thing, but…What happened with romance?!

Why was he so annoyed by it in the first place? She was Robb’s little sister and Jon was a bit protective about her, or at least that was the official version.

She was celebrating her new position as Griffindor’s chaser at the common room with her friends. Jon picked a flask full of fire whiskey and sneaked away from Griffindor’s common room.

He wondered about Potter’s time at Hogwarts. They had Voldemort and a war to think about. There was no time to waist thinking about his puppy love over his best friend’s sister…

Eventually he realized that he was being an idiot for not realizing the obvious, but at this point he was already at the Astronomy Tower.

Although Jon was pretty good at all of his classes, Astronomy had always been his favorite subject after Flying. Whenever he was feeling stressed or just wanted a bit of quietness to think about his life. Since he realized how much he was in love with Arya Stark, that had become quite frequent.

He sat by one of the windows, looking at the sky. It was still raining out there and every now and then a lightening would cut the dark sky. It was a beautiful night, he concluded. He sipped a bit of the fire whiskey from the flask he was carrying, letting the burning sensation take him to another place.

“I’ll never get what this fascination with the Astronomy Tower is all about.” He turned his head immediately at the sound of the familiar voice.

Arya was standing at the center of the room, wearing her quidditch uniform. Her hair was messy and by the shade of pink in her cheeks and nose, she probably has had too much buttered bier.

“I like the view.” He answered with a smile. “I thought you would celebrate with your friends a bit longer.”

“Most of them had gone to bed by now. With the tests coming, they were really tired.” She answered while sitting by his side.

“Not you?”

“I’m fine.” She looked at the sky for a while. “I can’t believe that I am part of the team now.”

“You deserved to be a part of the team. How come that I never knew that you were so good at quidditch?” She laughed at his question.

“I used to play with Bran when you and Robb were too busy trying to stay on your brooms to notice what I was doing. I guess you just never paid attention and Robb wouldn’t allow me to play because I was his little sister. Now he doesn’t have much choice.”

“You were fantastic today. That maneuver you did to run from the bludger…WOW. That was mind blowing!” He said in awe. “Slyntherin doesn’t stand a chance against us!”

“I hope so. I can’t even believe that it will be my debut game.” He passed the flask to her, offering a sip of his drink and Arya accepted it immediately.

The whiskey probably went down her throat burning everything inside her and causing that funny sensation of warmth.

“Not your cup of tea?” He asked teasing her.

“It’s perfectly good. I wasn’t expecting for fire whiskey, though.” She gave the whiskey another sip. “How did you manage to get this?”

“Sneaked it out of the kitchen. The elves a pretty cool if you ask them nicely.” Jon answered with a smile. “Don’t let Robb know that I’ve been sharing it with you.”

“I’m not that stupid. How did you find the kitchen anyway?” She insisted. Jon shrank his shoulders and tried to conceal a smile.

“I happens when James Potter is your team captain.”

“No way!”

“There’s this map, you see. It was created by his grandfather, or something. You know…The guys from the first Order of the Phoenix. Harry Potter used that map himself and it shows the most amazing things inside and out of the castle, including the exact location of every student and teacher. Potter gave me some information before he passed to Robb the position of captain.”

“That’s how he knew where I was that night!” She finally concluded.

“What night?” Jon asked suddenly curious about whatever she might be doing.

“Never mind. Poor Ned took a hell of a hex because of it.”

“Oh! THAT night!”

“Yeah.”

“Things a pretty serious between you two, aren’t they?” Jon asked and somehow hoped that Arya wouldn’t go on with the topic.

“Not really.” She sighed. “I mean…Ned is fine and I like having him around but I’m just not…I don’t feel the butterflies, I guess.”

“Never took you for a romantic girl, Stark.” Jon teased her.

“And I’m not one, but I feel that he is wasting his time with me when I’m not really interested. What about you? Done with your suffering over that red head Slyntherin?”

“I’m fine since she graduated. Life is easier now, thank you very much.”

“I never liked her.”

“I never liked Dayne, so I guess we are fine.”

“You didn’t like Gendry either.” Arya added. “Just admit it Jon. You are in love with me.” It was a joke, a provocation, but at this point his head was light with the effect of the fire whiskey and Arya was just too close to be ignore.

“Yes, I am.” He said mindlessly.

“Maybe you should do something about this, Jon. I’m getting tired of waiting for you.”

OK. That was a pretty bold move, but again…He could blame the whiskey later for that kiss.

Arya probably wasn’t expecting for this, or at least not expecting that Jon would kiss her regardless to his manners and issues about her being Robb’s sister. If she was taken by surprise, her kiss seemed quite eager to savor everything he had to offer.

Arya was the one to give the next step by taking his vest off and unbuttoning his shirt. Jon understood it to be an invitation to do the same with her quidditch uniform. His hands became bold as she tried to sit over his lap without breaking the kiss.

Jon had literally no idea of what the hell was going on, he just counted himself lucky as he allowed Arya to do whatever she wanted to do with him.

She unbuckled his trousers and freed his cock from his underwear while giving eventual strokes. Jon kissed her even harder as he tried to get rid of her pants and touch her intimately.

There is poetry in the act of making love to someone. The utter surrender and the passion burning inside the other’s eyes while touches, scratches and licks try to lead the way to pleasure in its most primal form. That was the kind of energy capable of creating stars, galaxies…

Jon contemplated her face as their bodies got connected. Her mouth slightly open and eyes closed as she rode him. He could feel her heavy breath against his neck as they moved, creating their own particular universe.

The storm outside seemed a pale copy of the uncontrollable energy that connected both of them. He doubted that the wizard world had poets capable of describing that kind of intimacy. Muggles knew how to describe it, maybe because it was the only kind of magic they had in their lives.

As the waves of pleasure build up inside them Jon held her closer and bit her neck making Arya howl. She came violently within his arms and it didn’t take long for Jon to find his own release.

They remained in silence while trying to recover their breaths, just looking at each other with faint smiles and eventually stealing kisses.

“This was…A hell of a celebration.” Arya finally said while resting her head on his shoulder. “I thought you would never try anything.”

“I thought you were not interested.” Jon answered with his mind still cloudy.

“I have been interested since you came visit us for the first time, stupid.”

“You were like…Ten? How was I supposed to know that?” He answered in a teasing tone.

“I’m just glad that you finally did it. You better be ready for the next week.”

“Why?”

“I want to celebrate our victory over Slythering in great style."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are made of sugar, spice and everything nice. ;D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is both a sequel to the drabble in which Arya is jealous and the answer to a prompt based on a quote from Wuthering Heights. I hope you'll like it.

"He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." She had said it with mesmerizing technique in her performance.  
Arya was a natural at acting, mostly because there was no limit she wasn’t willing to cross when it came to a role. He had doubted it at first. Catherine Earnshawn was a character that required a bit more than simple youthful stubbornness, but so far Arya had been nothing but superb.

Wuthering Heights was for all purposes and intents a story about star cross lovers and undying love tainted with bitterness and madness. Jon had thought for a second that a heroine so deep and complex would never suit Arya in anyway. His dearest cousin lacked the experience with violent and overwhelming love.

She was too young to know it. He had came across a few bad love affairs along his life and would usually think of himself more of an Edgar Linton than a Heathcliff. He hadn’t been made for undying love and all those tragedies that followed it.

“What do you think? Was it any good?” Arya questioned him after waiting for his opinion for long enough.

“Terrific! You nailed it.” Jon assured her while flashing a shy smile.

If only that line hadn’t made him think about all those things he wanted to ignore for the sake of his sanity.

He had been fighting against it for a while, mostly because Arya had always been some sort of deity to him. Jon wondered with infuriating insistence if there was such a thing as soul mates, twin souls or anything of that sort.

Although he was skeptic most of the time, the longing he felt and the restlessness that had consumed him for months since Arya started dating Ned Dayne were just too much. For a while he tried to convince himself that he was simply feeling protective toward her and that was something natural, except that his mind was getting quite creative in which concerned ways of hurting Ned Dayne.

Whenever they kissed, Jon turned his face away and tried to suppress that ugly feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to take her away from Ned Dayne and spit out every single reason why she shouldn’t be with that smooth faced asshole.

His relationship with Ygritte had turned into smoke in a matter of weeks since Arya started dating that guy. Since then Jon couldn’t sleep well and no matter what happened along his day his mind would always turn back to the memory of Arya smiling and kissing a man that wasn’t him.

It was a terrible thing to admit, but Jon started to feel jealous.

He hated Dayne for being sort of handsome. He hated him for being kind and well mannered. He hated him even for being so fucking present in Arya’s life like some kind of guarding angel while Jon had been casted away and ignored by her for months.

The truth is that for a long time he had taken Arya’s affections for granted to the point of the idea that she might find a boyfriend being inconceivable. She was his in a deep, true and undeniable way; his sweet cousin; his best friend; his Arya; until she was Dayne’s.

It tasted bitter to realize that he was no Linton. He was the dark gypsy boy, the outcast, in love with the noble girl from an old family, kicked back to his proper place by the young lord with golden hair and purple eyes. If that terrible love triangle were a book, Wuthering Heights was a fucking accurate choice.

“What is the sour face all about?” Arya asked while looking at him with inquisitive eyes.

“Do you feel it when you are with Dayne?” The words escaped his mouth. A thought turned into sound, loud enough for Arya to hear it and consider for a second.

“Ned is great.” She said with a smile that could be only described as melancholic. “But this kind of connection, what Catherine had with Heathcliff, that’s something else. They were soul mates.” Arya answered as a matter of fact. For a moment Jon was surprised. He never took her for a romantic girl.

“Do you believe in such a thing? Do you believe that there is a kind of love so intense that could transcend life? Able to cause such a pain when you are not close to the one you love and yet…And yet when you are near, there is a feeling of certainty…As if you have never been entire until that moment?” So many questions…It felt like a flood of doubts. A storm raging inside of him as Arya bit her bottom lip for a second.

She held his right hand with hers before placing it at her chest. Jon ignored for a second the sensation of touching her breast. It didn’t felt sexual. In fact the reason why he was holding his breath was pure and holly in some way. Jon felt Arya’s heart beating against his palm, the sound of it reverberating inside of him like an echo and making his own heart follow the compass.

“You know I do.”

For a second; a brief and unforgettable second; Jon allowed himself to forget his morals and all of his sense of propriety. He caressed her face like a lover would do as his heart was broken by the sight of her and the thought of everything that worked against his unshakable desire.

There is this thing about soul mates; this taste of tragedy and shattered dreams that make them so unforgettable. They rarely stay together although this impression they leave remains within each other forever like a burning mark. That’s why these souls seek for each other since birth, for growth was never meant to be easy.

Jon closed his eyes for a second and silently pray for a more gentle fate. He wasn’t looking for Heathcliff’s torment and his longing for a woman that was lost forever. If there was a God, or gods, he could only pray for a day in which their timing would be right. No other relationships, no age difference, no family quarrels…Nothing to keep them apart.

“Do you believe in such a thing?” There was a hint of pain in her voice and tears on his eyes.

“I do now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a very bittersweet one and I had gone through a short research to write it from a more spiritualist perspective. There is this thing about soul mates. They are groundbreaking, rarely show up when they are welcome and they are generally the opposite of what we look for in a partner. The reason for this is that they are meant to teach us something. This powerful connections are hard to explain and there's usually a lot of things working against it, but once they show up you'll never be the same again. The funniest thing is that soul mates usually don't stay together in the end. In some incarnations they don't even find each other because both have to reach a certain level spiritual maturity to such an event to happen. When I received the prompt all the concept of soul mates seemed to fit this ship naturally and it is also used in Wuthering Heights, something that I appreciate. I hope you'll like it too.  
> Reviews are most welcome.


	6. Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another awesome prompt. This one was sent to me by @stick-them-with-the-pointy-end and is basically Jon and Arya in a superhero universe, like Marvel. So...What if they were X-MEN?!  
> Be warned. There will be references everywhere!

In the end, the great tragedy of anyone with a hero complex is that you either save the world, or save the girl. You never get to save both.

He sighed while looking at her still sleeping at the infirmary while everyone seemed to be a bit tipsy around him. Wolf boy saved the day. Fucking. Big. Deal.

He wanted to punch something and he wanted it so bad that if anyone did as much as touch him on his shoulder, Jon would probably bite the idiot’s throat of and Ghost wouldn’t even be required.

At least she would live after that damn attack. As if the mansion hadn’t been destructed often enough. Destruction builds character, but that was ridiculous! Magneto?! That guy deserved some kind of trophy for being the greatest pain in the ass with a messianic complex that ever walked the Earth! Mutant war, extinction of the homo sapiens, mutants against the world, bat shit crazy ancient mutant trying to bring the apocalypse back, and now ice zombie mutation. REALLY?! When that guy would understand that sometimes enough is just enough.

Under normal circumstances Jon would have tried to keep Arya out of the fight, but they had needed every single mutant at disposal. All it took was a glimpse at her powers to make the metal fetishist go straightly to her. A shapeshifter as strong as Faceless was hard to find, besides it might have brought up some memories.

She opened her eyes lazily and smirk took over her lips. Arya would be fine. She needed to be fine.

“Hey, wolf boy!” Her voice came out frail. “Why the long face?”

“Quiet, girl. You need to rest.” He whispered to her before kissing her forehead.

“Bullshit.” She answered stubbornly. At least there was one good thing about her being so frail. She couldn’t change her face for a while and it was a relief. He liked her true face although Arya would always insist that it was an ugly one. “Everyone is fine?”

“Some minor injuries and a lot of repairs to be done, but everything is gonna be fine.” He replied calmly, while helping Arya to sit on her bed. “You should take it easy, you know?”

“You shouldn’t stay by my bed as if you were a fucking plant.” She replied sourly. “You know what, he didn’t had to hit me like he did. He just had to ask it nicely and I would have taken his offer into consideration. Some guys just don’t know how to deal with rejection.”

“I would have split his skull in half if he had taken you away.” Jon answered sourly.

“What have you done after he knocked me off?” Arya asked.

“Nearly bit his arm off. He might be alive still, but he won’t be able to use the fucking arm for a long while.” He declared proudly.

“That’s my wolf boy.” She answered with a smile.

Jon held her hand gently and smiled at her with affection. He could control animals of all kinds and even control humans if he wanted to. He had just saved the world and it was just ridiculous how vulnerable he felt when he realized that Arya had almost been lost forever.

The young ones liked to call themselves heroes, but there was something tragically ironical about the whole hero thing. The more powerful you were, the more vulnerable you became and both he and Faceless weren’t exceptions to this rule.

Jon had just wanted to be normal since he could remember. A life without mutations, a small house somewhere quiet and a family of his own. When Professor X took him in, although that kind of life hasn’t been exactly his dream, Jon had found a place where he was accepted and even praised about his abilities, but it had been that girl who made him feel at home.

She would never use the same face twice and she liked pranks. She would come to him every day with a different shape and talk about everything until Jon realized that she was actually having the greatest fun at his expenses. It took him a while to find out that her name was Arya Stark and that she was a shapeshifter.

It took him even longer to learn her true face and Arya never believed when he told her that she was pretty. The world called her Faceless and Jon had hated that name since she told it to him. It was so impersonal, so deprived of identity when Arya was nothing of the sort. She had been the one to make him feel at ease with his own mutation and even thank its existence since if it wasn’t for it he would have never met her.

“You look like someone with deep thoughts, wolf boy.” She teased him. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I was thinking about something for a while now.” Jon finally summoned the courage to say it. “I should have done it already but I guess I’m more comfortable knowing that you can’t change your face right now.”

“Is this one of those big talks?” Arya asked suspiciously.

“Kind of. I just needed to know that you wouldn’t hide behind another face when I asked you this.” Jon said before picking something inside his pocket. “I just haven’t thought that you would be in the infirmary. This kind of spoils the whole thing, but it made me realize that our lives are fucking unpredictable and that I can lose you at anytime, so…This is the thing. I don’t want to lose another moment without telling you that you have turned this place into my home.”

“Because I’m that awesome.” She smiled at him as if she truly believed it. “You did the same for me.”

“You don’t understand…” He sighed. “You are my best friend and I…I think you to me more than that. Arya Stark, I love you.”

He noticed as her eyes got wide and for a second she was speechless. Jon opened her hand and placed a ring on it. A small solitary, with their names on it.

“I know nothing about the super hero thing, but if I must be part of a super team at some point I would like you to be my partner, my wife, or whatever you want to call it.”

“Do I get to choose our uniforms?” She asked while raising an eyebrow. “You know, I would love to see you in spandex.”

“If this is a yes, you can even dress me in orange and green.” Jon smirked at her, while Arya’s face turned in to a sober one.

“If we have kids they will be like us. You hate it, Jon. You hate being a mutant, so…Why me? I can’t give the life you want and if one day I have kids, I want them to be proud of themselves. I want them to be free to show up who they are. I want their father to see them as perfection. How it will happen if you can’t see this perfection in yourself?” Arya asked and she had all the rights to do so. Jon caressed her face with tenderness before kissing her cheek.

“Because I see this perfection in you.” He answered with all his heart. “The truth? I’m not an activist for mutant rights. I don’t want to engage in a fight that it’s likely to kill us both. I just want and ordinary life with you. If we have kids I’ll love them no matter what and I’ll fight for them. I’ll fight for us. Always.”

“We are totally getting dressed up as Batman and Catwoman for Halloween. You know that, don’t you?” She teased him in answer and this time there were tears in her eyes.

“Why not Superman and Wonder Woman?” Jon asked with a huge smile.

“Batman and Catwoman are sexy as hell together. If we are supposed to be a couple, we are going to be a sexy couple. Got it, wolf boy?! Besides, you already have the grumpy face.”

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Incredible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviwes, babe! I love them!


	7. A Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to the drabble in which Arya is cooking breakfast, anonymously requested at my tumblr.

Jon didn’t bother to knock at the door or ring the bell. Cat Stark usually hated him for doing that, but she wasn’t supposed to be at home. He called for Robb and had no answer. Stark should be waiting for him there to see the game, but his car wasn’t anywhere to be seen.  
He heard noise coming from the kitchen and went there just to make sure that it wasn’t any kind of gourmet bugler. The place looked like a post apocalyptical dystopia, while Arya threw a half burned pan into the sink, while screaming out of rage like Imperator Furiosa.  
He would have laugh at it if her expression of frustration wasn’t kind of cute. Besides, it was safer to not laugh at her when Arya was holding a potential weapon.  
“Are you planning to destroy your mother’s kitchen again?” He asked while trying to not laugh at her face while Arya was holding a chef’s knife.  
“I was actually trying to cook dinner.” She answered in an upset tone. “Sansa went to a party; Bran is at the Reeds; Rickon is camping. I’m all by myself and I’m hungry, but as it seems I’m the only human being in the universe capable of ruining even cup noodles.”  
“Where’s Robb?” Jon asked curiously. “He was supposed to meet me here about five minutes ago.”  
“He had an emergency at the hospital. Given the sound of it, he won’t be home any time soon.”  
“Shit!” Jon let it escape. “He could have called me. Where am I supposed to watch the game now?”  
“He must have forgotten. He got out of here in a hurry.” Arya answered. “You still can watch it here if you want. I got beer and nothing to eat, but we can always order some pizza.”  
“Beer seems fine to me. As for the food, it’s my turn to feed you after you cooked breakfast for me the other day.” Jon laughed as he pushed her down to a chair.  
“Poor Jon. You really think I was being nice to you! I was trying to poison you, stupid.” Arya answered in a jest, making him laugh.  
“It wasn’t that bad.” It was a lie, but since that day he had started to think as food as something more meaningful, as a way to show to the one you love that you care even if you are not a especially skilled cook.  
“You are a terrible liar.” Arya said while rolling her eyes. “But fine. If you want to show me your abilities, be my guest. I’m going Ramsay Gordon’s mode on.”  
“Yes chef!” He shouted while looking for ingredients all over the place.  
He wasn’t exactly an expert in cooking, but he wouldn’t have reached adulthood if he hadn’t learnt how to tend to such a basic need. It wouldn’t be anything sophisticated or particularly elaborated, but he could manage to prepare a killing omelet with basically anything inside a fridge as long as he could find at least one egg.  
He walked around the kitchen as if he was at home. Truth be told, since he entered high school he had spent more time at the Starks than at his own place. Of course using Cat’s kitchen in such a way sound almost as heresy, the final frontier to be explored. That and Arya’s bedroom. If only she would give me a chance.  
“You know, you manage this kitchen far better than any of my siblings.” She said while looking at with a smirk on her face.  
“I guess this is why you mother never liked me.” Jon answered making her laugh. He flipped the omelet in the pan. The smell was great and it looked damn good.  
“Nah!” Arya answered carelessly while making a funny face. “She never liked you because you had always played along with almost all of my bad ideas.”  
“Almost all?” Jon served her omelet on a plate before focusing on preparing his own. “Here I thought I had a perfect score with you!”  
“Don’t get me wrong. You have a damn good score with me, it’s just that there are things that I would never ask you. By the way, cooking for me definitely grants you a bonus.” Arya’s eyes were sparkling at the sight of warm food. “Can you get the beer for me? It’s at the fridge.”  
“As you wish, madam.” Jon promptly opened the fridge to grab two bottles of beer.  
Once both of them had their omelets and beers, they moved to the living room. The game was about to start and Jon made himself comfortable at his usual spot at the couch, before Arya could sit by his side to devour her food.  
Both of them eat without paying much attention to the food. The game was too fucking important for them to get distracted over anything else but every move.  
“This is fucking good.” Arya eventually said. “How come that I never knew you could cook?”  
“You never visited me or slept over, so you don’t get to enjoy my talents as a chef.” Jon teased her.  
“You, on the other side, almost live here. Therefore I have the right to intoxicate you with my terrible food.” Arya laughed lightly at it.  
“It was actually a pretty good breakfast.” Jon corrected her. “It had been a while since I had such a good morning.”  
“Burned pancakes have nothing to do with my idea of a good morning.” Arya insisted.  
“I agree, but that day I realized that my idea of a good morning includes you dancing and singing at the kitchen.” The confession came out of his mouth effortlessly.  
Arya took a sip of her beer before putting the bottle down and lying on Jon’s lap. Jon caressed her hair gently, while waiting for a reaction from her.  
“It’s funny to see how romantic you are.” Arya said with a smirk.  
“Why is that?” Jon asked with an eyebrow raised.  
“My idea of a good morning starts with both of us naked in my bed.” Jon cleaned his throat with an odd sound, as if he had chocked on his food.  
“Since I’m making it up to you for cooking breakfast and giving me a really good morning, I guess I should repay you accordingly to your idea of a good morning.” He answered her with a malicious smile playing on his lips.  
“Robb won’t come back any time soon, soo…It’s now or never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are highly appreciated!


	8. Heros II

She had come to the mansion fairly young to Professor X’s standards. Her mutation had manifested sooner than usual in a way that nearly got her mad with panic. Arya could still remember it, and no matter what Jon had to say about her mutation and how the name “Faceless” didn’t suit her, that day was still very fresh and vivid in her mind.

She had been just nine years-old when it happened. It had been during a piano class; just another attempt of her parents to make her look more like the perfect and accomplished Sansa. Her sister was kind of blameless in this. Sansa had always been talented while Arya simply wasn’t interested in following her sister’s steps. People around them assumed that since they were related, Arya would develop some talent at some point and become a pretty and brilliant young lady.

She was doing her best while trying to play Chopin’s Nocturne, but her tempo wasn’t right and her fingers were just too hard while pressing the keys. Professor Mordane told her to stop immediately before her ears started to bleed with that awful noise.

“Why can’t you be more like your sister?” The woman had asked out of frustration. “You have the hands of a blacksmith.” Arya could barely contain the tears in her eyes. She rose from her sit and turned her back at Mordane. “Where are you going?! You have to continue!”

“I’m going to shoe a horse!” Arya screamed at her and run to the bathroom to hide and cry as much as she wanted.

Arya locked herself in the bathroom for several minutes while crying and cursing as much as she could. The only thought in her mind was about how useless she was and how she would do anything to be like Sansa for one day.

She splashed some water on her face and tried to fix it before anyone could notice that she had been crying all that time. As her hand rubbed her face Arya felt weird, as if her skin was lose on her facial structure, like a flaccid mask.

When she looked at the mirror again a wave of panic took her all of a sudden. She had expected to see the reflection of her long face, dark brown hair and grey eyes, but instead Arya saw Sansa’s pretty face looking back at her with shock.

She screamed out of terror as she rubbed her face angrily while her mind screamed that it must be a nightmare. Than her face changed again into Professor Mordane’s, then again and again until she have seen basically her whole family and friends reflected in the mirror.

Arya cried for ours until she was exhausted. They found her laid in the bathroom floor with her own face still covered with tears.

First her parents thought that she have had a nervous breakdown occasioned by stress, then they started to consider that Arya was truly mad once she told them about the faces. For two weeks she hasn’t left home until Professor X came to her house and told her parents that she had been selected to a program of gifted children. Something like a high profile boarding school where only genius were accepted, or at least that was what her parents thought.

Once she got in the mansion Arya couldn’t help thinking that she had finally found her talent and that made her especial somehow. Although that place wasn’t exactly her home, at least she was accepted and if who she was wasn’t enough, well…She could always turn into somebody else.

She looked at him, waiting for her across the mansion’s garden that was fully decorated and crowded with other students and teachers dressed in their finest. Jon looked splendid in his tux, although she preferred him with his hair loose and messy instead of the manbun he was wearing. He looked at her as if he was seeing an angel or something like that and Arya realized that it wasn’t her mutation what had given her a sense of belonging.

It had been Jon all along. It had been her Wolf Boy the one to turn the X-Mansion into a place she could call home, not because they shared the experience of being mutants, but because Jon didn’t care about Faceless and the possibility of having a different woman every day. For him, Arya Stark was the best and the only face he wanted to see when he woke up every morning.

That was why she was wearing a wedding dress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since unlovelySara talked about how much she wanted to know a bit more about this universe, it made me wonder how Arya first experience with her mutation and how Professor X took her in. I hope you'll like it.  
> Reviews appreciated!


	9. Heroes III

He had found his way to the mansion at the age of eighteen. Not exactly the ideal age to learn that you are a mutant, but Jon later found out that he had been one for a long while without noticing it. His mutation was fairly discreet in comparison with others and at first it would only manifest while he was sleeping. He used to call them “wolf dreams”.

When you are an orphan kid that jumps from one foster home to another, without being really welcome, you kind of crave for some kind of stability and belonging. He had lived most of his life without knowing how it was to be truly loved and accepted, until he found Ghost.

He was just a pup back then; casted out by the litter for his size and for being an albino. Jon thought him to be an ordinary dog and not a wolf, but he couldn’t have a better pet. He took care of Ghost and they become inseparable. It was when the dreams started and in the dreams he was the head of a pack, he was strong and fast, he belonged in the woods.

Jon would have lived a live without realizing what he really was, until the day he found a bunch of kids kicking a girl that had been hurt while playing soccer at the park.

“You freak! Mutant scum! Kill the mutant!” They screamed while kicking her. Jon had never seen that girl before, but that was cowardice. She was alone and they were at least five!

It was instant. His hand released Ghost without him noticing and the next thing he remembered was the taste of blood and the ferocious need to protect his pack. When his conscience came back, Jon realized with panic that he had been the one attacking those kids.

The kids run away, some of them bleeding and all of them scared to death, while Jon looked at the girl’s belongings in search of a number he could call to inform what have happened. There was a card of some sort of boarding school with an address.

Ghost sniffed the girl and licked her face as if trying to wake her up. It must have worked, because she opened her grey eyes slowly. She looked at him and then at Ghost lazily, before smiling.

“Thank you, Wolf Boy.” It was the first time she called him that.

She blacked out again and that made him panic once more. Later he would think about what happened with the wolf, but first he needed to take her to the hospital and call that boarding school. He called the school first informing the hospital where they were taking her, but before he could take the girl out of his car into the ER there was an ambulance waiting for them and a red head woman told him that they would take care of the girl.

“I won’t let her alone. I must know if she will be fine!” Jon insisted.

The woman allowed him to follow the ambulance with his car until they reached an old mansion outside the city. Jon assumed it was the boarding school.

He waited in the hallway for an hour or so until someone came to talk to him. A bald man on a wheelchair. It was the first time he meat professor Xavier and learned about mutation.

He explained that the girl had gotten really tired during the training and that must have compromised her ability of shape shifting, making her turning back to her original appearance. The other kids have seen the change and panic, but Jon thought it to be no excuse for them to attack a girl so cowardly.

Everything after that happened very fast. He didn’t want to be a mutant, especially after seen what they have done to that girl, but in the X-Mansion he found a place where he was truly accepted for what he was. More than that, after a year under Charles Xavier tutelage, he became a teacher himself.

During that first year a different student would come to him everyday asking the most extraordinary things and he would talk with the said student for hours. At first he thought it to be some kind of inclusive program to make him feel welcome, although he never saw the girl he had saved again.

It was Bull the one to tell him the obvious.

“She is having a great laugh at your expenses. This is something Faceless would do.” Gendry said nodding lightly. “And you are pretty bad noticing a shape shifter that has been fooling you for a year!”

“Who is Faceless?” Jon asked.

“Her real name is Arya Stark.” Bull said bluntly. “She is the girl you saved, you idiot!”

After that he waited for her to come along, wearing a face that wasn’t hers. This time she appeared as a red head boy with curly hair and blue eyes, talking about video games and stuff.

“So…When you are going to show me your real face?” He asked her with a smirk. “This game is getting old.”

“Who told you?!” She asked angrily. “It was Gendry, wasn’t it?!”

“It doesn’t matter. I just find it kind of offensive that you have been talking to me for so long without telling your real name or even let me know that the girl I helped a year ago was ok.” He smirked at her.

“You wouldn’t like my real face.” She insisted. “It’s nothing special really.”

“That’s for me to decide, ok? Besides, I want to know you and you are making it quite difficult with this game.” Jon insisted. “C’mon! Show me your real face!”

She finally allowed him to see her face and Jon just couldn’t understand why she would hide it in the first place.

“I’m Arya Stark.” She said shyly, as if she was afraid of him being disappointed at her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arya.” He smiled at her. “My name is Jon, not Wolf Boy, by the way. Why do you insist in this change of faces?”

“Why would you be Wolf Boy if you could be anyone else in the world?” She replied sharply and stubbornly.

“I like who I am. There’s nothing special about me, but I have a wolf for a pet and this is kind of cool.” Jon replied making her laugh at it. “I can give you one good reason to be Arya Stark, though.”

“What is it?” She asked curiously.

“Arya Stark was attacked in the park and if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t find this place. So, despite the nasty circumstances, Arya Stark kind of gave me a place to call home.” Jon gave her a melancholic smile. “Some say she is a hero, you know…X-Men and stuff. I think she is and I would like to get to know her, not a random student every day. I kind of own her a great deal.”

Of course that Jon had never expected what would happen years later.

Arya Stark gave him a place to call home and as they exchanged rings while saying their vows, Jon realized that she was also giving him a family.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one in the X-Men universe, this time showing how Jon found out about his power and meat Arya. I hope you'll like it.  
> Reviews are appreciated.


	10. Coming Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is to @ravenlokiika321, who asked for a modern au jon back/ on leave from the military and Arya meeting him at his gate. I suggest you to read it while listening to Lake Song, by The Decemberists.

He walked down the road as he used to do since infancy, but this time it felt like an ethereal experience…As if he was just a ghost haunting the path were once he had walked with his fellows and friends. His pockets full with regrets and guilt. In many ways war makes you wonder what sort of force controls and rules the universe. Who says who should die and who should live, especially when they had been all young and fresh with the excitement of fighting for their country?

He walked down the road anyway. His heart aching with the memory of his best friend...He would never see Robb again, with snow melting in his hair and the easy smiles girls were so fond of. He had tried to write Ned and Cat a letter to tell them how sorry he was, but what comfort would it bring? It wouldn’t bring their son back. It wouldn’t make a change in all the tragedy of it.

And still he walked down the road looking for a sign, a chance to start over or at least to call that damn city home again. He stopped by the Stark’s gate and looked at the old mansion with a pang in his heart. In so many ways it was just like he remembered. The gardens were full with flowers in bloom. A courtesy of spring and yet his heart felt like a never ending winter.

He waited at the gates for a glimpse of Robb’s red hair and Theon’s smirk as they talked about some pretty girl. He heard the angry voice of a child and then Cat’s ever reasonable voice trying to calm down the kid. He also heard the dogs barking at the backyard and music coming from inside…A piano playing a sad tune.

Jon thought about crossing the gate to ring the doorbell and pay his condolences to the family, but the place seemed untouched by grief and for a second he wished he could stay there just for a little while. Maybe he would fall asleep and when he opened his eyes everything would be just like it was before.

“Jon?” A voice half startled half dazzled called his name almost in a whisper. It was familiar and welcome like the smell of black berries tart and lemon cakes. His heart jumped, as if trying to beat again after a long period of slumber.

He turned his body to face her. He expected for a wild dirty face, short messy hair, scratched knees and arms. What he found was wild dark beauty, with her hair falling over the left shoulder. Around her neck a string with he thought to be Robb’s ID, like a token of affection or maybe a way to keep the memory of her heroic brother alive. That was something she would do and that was something that most would call cruelty.

“Hey, girl.” He said as he tried to flash a smile at her, but what a poor thing it was. She let her bag fall to the ground with all the groceries and run to him like the wild spirit she was.

Jon opened his arms to receive her like a blessing. Her arms surrounded him with warmth and acceptance he never thought he deserved. She smelled of shampoo, berries and home. How old was she now? She had been fourteen when he left and she had made him promise he would come back in one piece.

“I knew you would come back.” She whispered while still hugging him.

Was it the reason why he managed it? He remembered hearing her voice when he was shot. Arya commanding him to stay alive, calling his name as his life hanged on the balance. Her fierce and demanding nature dragging him back to conscience when he was at the hospital. Was it the reason? Was her will that strong or was it the sound of her laugh what gave him strength to keep fighting?

“I promised I would, didn’t I?” It was the only thing he could answer to her.

Haven’t Robb made her the same promise? Wasn’t it disrespectful of him to say that he kept his promise unlike her brother, as if he was better at keeping promises when in fact he was just a lucky bastard that shouldn’t be there, standing in front of her and daring to be alive when her brother would never make it back home? Jon just hugged Arya tighter, maybe because she seemed just as lively and pure as he remembered, and she smelled of youth and home.

“I’ve missed you.” They both said it together as they used to and Jon simply couldn’t resist the temptation of running his burned fingers through the mane of her dark brown hair.

Arya smiled at him and he felt as if washed clean by the fresh rain of summer, even if her eyes were surrounded by dark circles and something inside them seemed a bit lifeless, just like his own.

“Were you with him?” She finally asked. “Did he suffer?”

“I wasn’t…” Jon barely managed to speak those words. “They told me he didn’t suffer much. An immediate death…” He took a deep breath and felt his lungs burning. “I’m so sorry, girl.”

She wiped away a stubborn tear and gave his arm a light punch.

“It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could do.” She answered before putting a respectable distance between them to gather her things. Arya forced herself to smile at him once she straightened her back. “I’m glad you are back. At least allow me to be happy about you being back to us. Robb would like it.”

He didn’t fight her in this. He couldn’t. Arya gave a step forward and opened the gate. She looked at him with a stubborn smile.

“Come in. Mother have made blue berry tart and I may have a good whiskey hidden somewhere.” She said proud of her rebel nature.

“Since when you like whiskey?” He asked as he took the bag from her hand to help her with the groceries.

“It has been a while. I needed something to get me through this shit.” She answered plainly as they walked together toward the entrance.

She opened the door and Jon could smell the tarts and fresh flowers from the garden as Arya looked at him.

“Welcome home.” She said and for a second he allowed that warmth to fill him, along with the growing need of kissing her lips just because Arya was this wild force of nature, enduring loss and still smiling at him. She looked like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are appreciated XD


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Arya. Road trip. Comfort. They're siblings and very close. Cheap Beers. Indie music. England. Cold weather. Hidden Feelings. Confrontation. They're in love. They want each other. They can't resist anymore.  
> This was annonymously prompted on my tumblr. I suggest the songs 505, and Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys.

That was probably a bad idea, but it was way too late in the night to keep going on a road trip any way, especially with the pouring cold rain outside. They didn’t have much money and luckily they would get to New Castle on the next day, so they didn’t need much. A clean room and twin bed would do, but of course Jon would never be that lucky.

She turned on the radio and some indie song was playing. She was much fond of those things, along with a cheap beer and a drag of his cigarettes, while she lay down across the mattress, never giving a shit about how her legs got exposed in her shorts.

There was something written between the lines of her defiance and slightly rebel attitude. Something about dangerous flirts and the innocent closeness they shared since childhood. They were no longer children, though. They weren’t even close any more, so why he would never shake off the curiosity about the taste of that beer dripping from the corner of her mouth?

Little sisters and big brothers on a road trip in the middle of nowhere. Why would Sansa want to marry someone from New Castle was beyond him. Arya called him early that morning asking for a drive to their sister’s wedding, but to be honest Jon was quite aware that she could have taken a train. Never mind the why, the how, the what…They were sharing a room with no one but bottles of cheap beer to keep them company and provide the worst ideas ever.

Distance had bought him a bit of peace of mind for a while. Keeping his white ass busy in Oxford while his baby sister would remain at home with her mom and dad, as if Arya would ever do something she was told. No fucking way. It was only a matter of time and she would find her way back to his obsessions and shameful thoughts. She was even lying on his bed now, since they couldn’t find a room with twin beds.

Arya looked at him with her sly grey eyes with a cigarette hanging on her lips. Her nails painted bloody red, probably just to shock her sister who insisted on making Arya wear a pink dress she hated.

He loved the way she moved her feet at the rhythm of the song and hummed it softly. He loved the way she didn’t care about his eyes roaming all over her body with vicious need. What the hell was going on there? Why couldn’t he simply look at her and see his best friend, favorite sibling, or even the one person he would always be eager to meat? Well…Perhaps he was indeed seeing all of it and that was precisely the problem.

Separation had been a living hell, without listening to her laugh every day. Every girl he talked to or even looked at would remind him of Arya somehow. That had been how he realized that maybe…Maybe being her brother was becoming something far too heavy and complicated for him to deal with.

He sat by her side and took a bottle for himself. In a matter of minutes it was empty and Arya was resting with her head lying on his lap as he played with her hair.

From all the girls in the world, and he had tasted a number of them, Arya was a unique piece of art. She painted his dull days with colors of rebellion, laugh and acceptance. She was his favorite person in the world. He would even dare so much to say that Arya was a synonym to home.

“Will you shave before the wedding?” She asked lazily, with the cigarette hanging on her lips, while caressing his face half covered by a fuzzy beard. “It would be a pity if you shaved. I like you messy, just like this.”

“I can keep it this way if you want me to.” He answered before kissing the palm of her hand, making her laugh lightly. “Will you keep the red nails?”

“Do you like them?” Arya flashed him a naughty smile he found hard to resist, like everything else about her.

“Very much.” His voice came out low. “It suits you, although I don’t think Sansa will appreciate it.” He smirked at her while caressing her hand.

“Not that she ever approved of anything I do.”  Arya pointed with a sarcastic laugh. “That’s the fun of it.”

“Well…I approve.” He pointed before taking the cigarette from her lips to have a drag.

“You always do. This is hardly a decent compliment.” She pointed before sitting on the bad again and looking at him. “Be more creative.”

“What would you have me saying? I like your red nails and your hair.” Jon answered in a cocky way as Arya kneeled on the mattress to face him in a way that reminded him of sin. Would she craw to him like a cat in the heat? Was it even a possibility or he was getting just too creative with the proximity?

“Say that I’m beautiful.” She suggested. “I know I’m not, but it would be nice to hear that for a change.” Arya smirked at him. Sansa had always been the one to turn necks wherever she went, while Arya…Well. Arya was unique in her own way.

“You are beautiful, little sister.” He obeyed while pointing out the tragic fact of their bond. Maybe if he did that, he wouldn’t feel so inclined to pin her down to the mattress and make her moan his name breathlessly.

“Anything else?” She asked insistently.

“I guess we should get some sleep.” He suggested in alternative. That game was getting hard and dangerous.

Arya bit her bottom lip sensuously and the sight of it made his mouth dry. The air between them heavy with the smell of cheap beer and smoke. There was something else, though. He could sense it. The electricity in the air and the thrill in his veins along with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. A flurry that was.

“How long has it been since we last shared a bed?” She asked with a wolfish grin playing on her lips. Could she feel it too?

“Since you were seven.” He answered her dutifully. “You wouldn’t stop kicking me while you were sleeping.”

“Let’s hope that I’m a better bed partner now.” She smirked while taking bad the cigarette and putting it off, before lying on his side.

Jon turned off the radio and the lights. The only sound for a while was that of the pouring rain on the outside and eventually their heavy breaths disturbing the thick silence. She could feel the gentle warmth irradiating from her body next to his.

“Would you hold me as you used to?” She asked in an almost innocent way.

“Are you scarred of thunders still?” He answered in a jest before embracing her, regardless to the danger of the act.

“Maybe.” She confessed. “There’s no one else here, Jon.” Arya said as if that meant a great deal and it did.

“I know.” He said with his mouth dry as her body started to bring his back to life with mindless moves.

Her hands slid from his chest to his low abdomen, sending a shiver through his spine in anticipation. He couldn’t tell what was going on. Well…Maybe he could, but he really didn’t have the strength to put it in words. Jon was dazzled and thrilled with her sudden boldness and the way Arya’s hands would blindly reach for his hard cock inside his trousers.

“Nobody will hear us.” She whispered. “Maybe we should…Take the opportunity to say it out loud.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t ask for the things you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle.” He said as he grabbed her by the nape, bringing her mouth close to his.

“Try me.” Arya provoked. “We both know it’s getting pointless to hide anyway.”

“Ladies first.” Jon insisted as his hands slid away the shirt she was wearing.

“I love you, stupid.” She said in a half moan as he kissed the base of her neck.

“I love you too.” He answered before claiming her lips in a fervent kiss.


	12. Halloween Tribute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I received an anon request on my Tumblr for a spooky story to celebrate the Halloween. I just couldn’t deny it, so here it is. There are some pieces of it that were meant to cause discomfort, so you have all been warned. I hope you enjoy.

She sat by the light and carefully prepared needles and stitching material. Outside the lab the howling wind announced a cold night of autumn. It had taken her hours to enter the morgue and smuggler him out of that terrible place.

Arya looked at him fondly. The pang in her heart would never fail whenever she thought about him never coming back home. Oddly, his face had never been that serene. He seemed to be just sleeping while she prepared her materials to another experiment. His handsome face was just a little paler. At any moment Jon would wake up again and they would be happy.

She removed the white sheet that covered his nakedness. If circumstances weren’t so morbid that sight would have been enough to arouse her. Arya touched his open wounds lightly, as if she were afraid of hurting him even when it was something impossible. Her fingers got bolder as she explored his body, feeling the cold skin and the strong muscles underneath.

His rock hard chest, his abdomen covered by a path of dark hair from his belly button to his cock. She felt like the goddess Isis admiring the dead body of her husband, Osiris. Just like the legend, Arya couldn’t resist touching his cock and feeling it soft in her hands. Only a few days ago he would have been hard and ready for her. Arya let go of him and went back to her examination of the body.

 _Rigor mortis_ was gone. It was just his beautiful dead body entering the first stage of decomposition. She would have to be fast about it, before the body became a useless thing.

Arya grabbed the sewing material, evaluating every needle to pick the right one. That reminded her of anatomy classes and how much she hated to deal with corpses. Jon used to mock her at the time, saying she would do it better if she was hadn’t escaped her sewing lessons as a kid. He was right. She could barely fix a button on her blouses, but she knew every muscle, every bone and every vein in a human body. She knew how to cure, how to kill and maybe…

That was a thought for another time.

Arya pierced his cold skin with the needle, starting what would be a long and dull process of sewing his wounds. It wouldn’t be a gracious work, but it would be just a minor thing in the big picture. Jon had never cared much for his appearance any way and she would later touch those scars as she would touch her trophies. With reverence and adoration.

Once the final wound was sealed, Arya stopped to admire her work with methodical and clinic eyes.  The internal organs had been previously fixed by her in a way that would make her former surgery teacher to feel proud of her.

In med school they had called her mad. Only Jon would ever encourage her to pursue her experiments and dare to be more than a simple trauma surgeon. It was only fair for him to be the one to share that moment with her.

If only she could have done the same for her parents or even her older brother…They were the reason behind her obsessions with life, death and everything in between. Jon had respected it. He had fueled her curiosity and stood by her side when nobody else did.

Arya caressed his face fondly as her heart allowed doubt to come in once more. There was no time for her to doubt her abilities. There was no time for her to indulge old insecurities. Jon was there…Just waiting for her to dare one more time and conquer everything she ever wanted.

For her to conquer Death.

Was it not the ultimate goal of science? All the pompous presumption and the technical language, the formulas, the labs, the foul smells; dead animals and humans laying to be turned inside out  so all those men and women of science could feel death and learn how to trick it. So far the medical science had learned to delay the inevitable end. A simple and insufficient bargain with the mightiest force that make all men knew at some point.

Death was her only faceless god and Arya had decided long ago that she would be greater than such deity. There was only one thing to be said to death.

“Not today.” She whispered in the deadly silence of her cold laboratory as she touched Jon’s face with the anxiety of a woman waiting for her lover.

A thunder outside made the lights flicker in the lab and dragged Arya back to her work. She made the final arrangements and connected Jon to all the devices she would need.

He used to say that she had read too much horror novels in her youth. One of their infinite private jokes. Of course galvanism was way too old fashioned for her, but there were a number of technologies available and her researches had been mainly successful. Jon used to say she was beyond stubbornness; that anything denied to her would become her heart’s desire. He was right about that.

She never liked Frankenstein that much, but not even her could deny that along the years the idea presented by the cruel doctor were indeed fascinating. Death was the eternal enigma, the great enemy to be defeated in order to protect those she loved.

Arya whipped away a stubborn tear rolling over the corner of her eye.

She would have given up her studies and experiments if Jon hadn’t been taken away from her.

_Too soon…It was too soon._

Arya looked at the ring shining on her hand. Jon had cooked dinner that night. They had eaten and chatted until he declared that he had something to ask her. There was no way she would ever say no to his proposal. Arya had been just too happy to ever consider that Jon wouldn’t live enough to grow old with her, or even take her to the altar.

She touched her stomach mindlessly for a second…She never had the time to tell him.

Arya noticed with sadness that life and death had always surrounded her existence in a way that both felt like old friends to her. But she would never forgive Death for taking the man she loved away. She would prove herself greater. She would defeat that devious god.

She turned on the equipment with vigorous movements and sudden enthusiasm. Outside the storm started to pour furiously as the lightening cut the night and the thunders roared. The whole lab seemed to come lively with the sounds of the monitors and the machines. The rain outside got heavier and louder.

“Just a few more minutes…” She whispered to herself as she pressed the last button. “No more let Life divide what Death can join together.” Her favorite line from Adonais came out of her mouth as she waited impatiently for the machines to work.

A lightening cleared everything around her and suddenly the lights came off.

“No! No! No!” Arya kept saying to herself, feeling the smell of burned plastic and hearing the sound of electrical charges and dead-shorts buzzing.

In the darkness of the lab she started to cry copiously and scream angrily. That was it? After everything she had done, all the work and the pain…That was how she would lose him for good?

Panic took her all of a sudden in flood. She wasn’t ready! She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him! They were young! They were planning to start a life together and they would even have a child in a few months! She wanted him to know their child and she wanted to count all the white hairs in his head as they grew old.

It wasn’t fair.

Arya turned her back at his body and tried to find her way out of the dark laboratory. Tears still falling from her eyes copiously as she tried to unlock the door angrily.

She heard the sound of metal pieces falling and hitting the linoleum floor. Arya screamed at the startle and turned her back at the closed door. Her breath was heavy and her hand felt protectively to her belly.

_It’s nothing…You are just a bit sensitive and responsive._

Another lightening cut the dark sky, bathing the whole lab with blinding white life. Arya opened her eyes and saw a glowing figure walking her way like a ghost. A familiar ghost.

For a moment she thought it was just her stressed and over responsive mind playing tricks on her. She was just seeing things she wanted. They were not real. She insisted on that thought for a few seconds until a cold touch caressed her wet cheeks fondly. A touch to strong to be just her imagination.

 _“Arya…”_ His voice called her name as if he was a child learning his first word.  

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are appreciated as always.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are highly appreciated as usual XD


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